“Practicing the Art and Mystery of Housewifery”

We took a trip to Williamsburg, Virginia in the summer of 2012. Standing in the hot kitchen building where the cooking hearth fire had just been extinguished, the living historian explained the duties of the woman of this house in the 1700s. She oversaw all the domestic activities and practiced the art and mystery of housewifery. I asked him to repeat that. He repeated this and added, you didn’t want everyone to know all your secrets. I am, however, willing and glad to share mine here.

Let me tell you where I am now. I’m sitting in my craft room. My laptop is in front of me and I’m perusing my journal trying to grab on to something of interest to write about. I’m good with the writing as long as I’m interested in the subject. In an hour, Fiona will descend the yellow school bus stairs for only the second time. Her Pre-K year has begun. Let me tell you what Pre-K means to me I was a new blogger when I got pregnant with her. So the blog and my writing talents have been worked on and developed parallel...

As parents, we have a lot of damage control to manage. We expect that our children will be teased so we try to give them un-teasable names. We imagine they’ll be injured by the coffee table so we choose to have a round coffee table. We see the food struggle coming and so we make their meal choices simple so they’ll eat. But for all our parental controlling, do we consider the benefits of seeing the disasters and circumstances through to their not so perfect endings? Because there’s a lot to be learned by this practice...

Before launching into one of his tales, my husband always says,”Stop me if I’ve told you this one before”. Of course you wouldn’t be rude enough to do that. I’m the only one that would. But I do think I have a tendency to hesitate telling you about myself sometimes as if you’ll tire of “that same old story” especially when I’m whining about my body. I’ve found, however, that some stories are worth telling over and over if it allows for others to give themselves permission to help themselves or feel like...

You may not choose to run a marathon for yourself but you would for a cause you felt truly moved by. It feels the same way with self-recovery, the process of rediscovery of our truest strongest selves. It is such a struggle through forests of fear and sorting of fact from fiction that a person would really truly rather not. Unless you have kids. Then your whole perspective on who you need to be changes. Much of what I have done never would have happened unless I had kids who I knew would be getting a better me for my process. It started...

At our dinner party the other night I asked my friends what it was that they remembered having the crazy notion to do and suddenly doing at the age of 25? Three of us said we had gotten married. Because I have noticed recently that there’s definitely a switch that gets thrown developmentally in a 25 year-old and it’s a kind of crazy entitlement switch. As in “I’m a grown-up now and I can do all of those things I want to and you’ve told me not to do. All those things that society would frown upon because it’s my...

Opinions are like noses, we all have them. But are we entitled and allowed to have them? If I find it hard to find a voice to express them, I may not feel I’m allowed to have an opinion in the first place. As a woman, it can prove tough not to judge myself for what I have to say as necessary or valid as I’m considering actually saying it. Then I may choose to keep quiet. I have my own internal bouncer at the thought door checking the validity, wittiness, or profundity of my outgoing thoughts and opinions. And often, they’re...

There is a lot of incomplete, ignored, and undone tasks hovering over my head. I come across a pile of stuff in my closet or attic or bookshelf and I think , I don’t have the time to deal with this. Then multiply this by 100 and I’m kinda a captive of all the uncompleted piles of stuff. A prisoner of my past, my intentions, and my stuff. Years of living reactively, of not completely cleaning up after myself, and of not knowing what to value has led to a slight hoarding problem. I get it honest from my family. I began my...

Today was Fiona’s fourth birthday party and it was a complete success, by her standards and mine. Yes, she got enough Frozen themed party paraphernalia and stuff to satisfy all Frozen itches for a decade. And I got to bask in the knowledge that me and my daughter matter to all these lovely people. The reason I go to such efforts to decorate and to heap yummy food on my kitchen table is a tribute to the love that these people have for and show me and my family. My gratitude runs very deeply. I am almost speechless but then, not quite,...

My daily prayer is for a shift. Please let my mind shift to see me and my world and my potential differently today. To value what I have and what I know with respect and reverence. I leave the house hoping to break my “same brain”. And I do for a little while driving or shopping. And then I return home and I feel the inevitable slip back into my rut. In the light of the upcoming birthday party and having guests over, I am doing some home renovations. Throw a party and you’ll make progress. My hallway is getting a long overdue facelift....

It’s conflicting to be a parent. They are of me but not mine. I need to be open and honest for them to trust me. But I need to keep a safe distance when they have to work out who they are because sometimes, that work is at my expense. Frankly, my children will bully me to get their needs met. They’ll be disrespectful but only to me. It’s business, not personal. They’re working themselves out and I’ve got the bruises to prove it. My son’s a bully when he wants more screen time or when he needs food because...